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greatideas-badwriter · 1 year ago

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Worth The Risk: Chapter 12

Mature Content Warning!

Sakura cried freely for a long time, relieved she no longer had to hide it. Sasuke didn't say a word and just held her there while falling asleep.

The thing that had her so shaken up was a text message. When the woman moved to Oto, she changed her number in hopes no one from Konoha would be able to contact her. It seemed successful until her ex's name crossed the screen with the message, 'I love you,' and nothing else. It was like someone had thrown her into a bathtub full of icy water and held her down so she couldn't come up for air.

'What does it mean? Did he send it because he's found me, or is he just trying to scare me? But how did he get my new number? No one from back home has it. Not even Hinata!'

Hinata Hyuuga is the only one Sakura considered a friend, though they weren't all that close. It's just that she knows the softspoken woman doesn't have the heart to befriend someone with bad intentions.

The Haruno girl's fingers clenched handfuls of Sasuke's shirt more tightly than before, inching closer still and silently begging the comforting warmth he offered to chase away her anxious terror. It definitely helped.

In the morning, the Uchiha man surprised her by forcing her to ride to school in his car, which she'd refused since moving into the Akatsuki house. Now that they're getting along better, she wasn't as inclined to continue denying the favor. That doesn't mean that everything's fine between them, though.

'He still hasn't said a word about the fact that he's a fucking gangster, much less that he knowingly tricked me into becoming involved with multiple dangerous people. I've been surrounded by criminals for weeks without knowing it. He must see me as the biggest idiot in the world.'

She glared at her lap as the man in question drove turned into the college's student parking lot, 'And what was I thinking, letting him kiss me and hanging out with him all day yesterday like we're best friends?'

Needless to say, Sakura was back to being pissed off and scared because the heat of the moment had passed, and her mind had cleared. Now, the woman was even more uncomfortable because Sasuke thought she was over it when, in reality, she'd been too swept up in overwhelming emotions and the drama that'd occurred.

"Are you gonna sit there all damn day? C'mon."

Sasuke was an asshole a lot of the time, but especially in the morning. Frowning silently, Sakura got out of the car and pointedly ignored him as she walked toward the entrance. He didn't say anything. Hell, he might not have even followed her. She wasn't sure because she didn't look back to check.

"Good morning, Sakura! Fancy meeting you so early in the morning," Mr. Hatake's familiar voice met her ears, making her face pale as she recalled drunkenly flirting with the college professor.

'Oh great. He probably thinks I have some perverted student and teacher fantasy kink now. Should I apologize or just act like it never happened? I'll wait to see what he does.'

Sakura turned to offer a sheepish grin to the white-haired man, "Good morning, Sir. How are you?"

He grinned from behind his mask, tilting his head as the pair ambled through the crowded entry hall, "Better than you, I assume, since you weren't here yesterday. Did Saturday's party prove too draining?"

Blushing and humiliated since he didn't beat around the bush in the slightest, Sakura brought a palm to her forehead and groaned, "Can we pretend that night never happened? I'm so embarrassed."

Mr. Hatake chuckled warmly and lowered the volume of his voice as he said, "Why? I thought you were quite charming. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I was simply worried you'd gone overboard and become sick. It's a relief to see you looking normal today."

Before she could respond, he nodded toward the same cafe where they'd had coffee together last week, "Coffee? We don't have time to sit and chat, but I'll buy."

Sakura nodded, falling into step at his side, "Shouldn't I buy this time, since you did before?"

They got in line, and the teacher nodded, "Very well, but only if you agree it's my turn next."

It wasn't necessarily scary that her, albeit handsome, older professor was borderline flirting with her, but it was very uncomfortable. She wondered if maybe he was teasing her on purpose to see how flustered she'd get. The woman would feel better if so because that'd mean he wasn't being serious. After getting their coffee, the pair headed for the lecture hall.

Kakashi said, "I was wondering, by the way. Where are you from originally?"

'Oh, no. Should I lie? What if he asks me questions about where I say I'm from, and I don't know how to respond? If I tell the truth, though, what if…? It couldn't hurt to be honest about at least this much.'

"Konoha," she also offered, just in case his next question was the reason for relocating, "I have a cousin who lives here."

"I thought your accent was familiar! I'm friends with many of the professors at Konoha University. Perhaps you met some of them?"

'Shit! I didn't expect him to say that!' "Oh, uh, no. I didn't attend K.U. Sorry!"

They arrived at their destination then, and the woman took the opportunity to excuse herself from the dangerous conversation and find a seat. The entire lesson, Sakura felt like eyes were on her, but she couldn't tell if it was just anxiety. The class after that, the same thing happened. By the end of the school day, she was convinced she was being followed.

The fear was so intense that when she realized Sasuke wasn't at his car yet, she couldn't find it in herself to wait around for him to arrive. No, she began walking home, peeking around each corner and constantly looking over her shoulder to verify that no one was there.

Maybe ten minutes after leaving the school, her phone went off in her pocket, drawing a small squeak of surprise from the poor girl. Sasuke's name crossed the screen, and she clicked the green icon to accept the call, only to hear something rustling behind her.

"Where the hell are you? I've got shit to do today, so hurry up."

When Sakura turned to inspect the sound's source, nothing was there, so she faced forward again, only for the sound to repeat itself. In an absolute panic, she hissed into the phone, "I can't talk right now," and hung up. Then, she pulled her pocketknife out of her coat pocket and held it tightly while walking more briskly.

'Is it him? Has he really found me? I won't let him get the jump on me.'

Once Sakura was within a block of the Akatsuki house, she realized that she'd lead the follower right to her home if she was being tailed. Even if it wasn't her ex, a stalker knowing her address would be bad, so she walked right past the giant house, pointedly not looking its way, just in case.

'What should I do? Do I call Sasuke and tell him what's going on? What if they overhear? What if there's no one, and I'm just being paranoid? He'll never let me live this down. He might not believe me in the future if there actually is trouble, too.'

So, the Haruno woman tried calling Ino and then Karin, only for both of them to be unable to answer because they were at work. If it wasn't for last night's text message, she'd just go home and tell Sasuke about it, but it was too risky now. She trembled but could only keep her head down and her feet moving.

Time passed until the sun had set, and the woman had no choice but to take a break because her legs felt like jelly from moving for over an hour straight. Stepping into a convenience store, she looked around one last time before facing forward. She bought a bottle of water but hesitated to leave after that.

'What if someone is really out there waiting? What if they have a car and they kidnap me?'

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

Sakura jumped, grinning tensely at the gangly checkout boy and quickly lying, "O-Oh, uh, I forgot to buy something. Sorry." The woman went back down one of the aisles, only to crouch and pretend to be browsing for something to eat, but in reality, she was blinking back tears and barely managing not to have a panic attack.

Suddenly, the doors to the store opened again, the employee up front greeting whoever entered as they had her. Only when footsteps could be heard coming her way did she realize someone might be coming in to get her since she didn't go outside.

'It's too late to run now. They're close enough to catch me.'

Sakura gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes closed as she prepared for whatever was about to happen, only to gasp when Itachi's voice met her ears, "Sakura? What're you doing here? Everyone's been looking for you."

The woman shakily rose to her full height, bursting into relieved tears when she turned around and saw the handsome man's concerned expression.

He grabbed her hands, looking over her appearance more attentively, "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Why didn't you come home?"

She could only shake her head, thinking, 'All I ever do is cry and run away. I don't think a day has passed in over a year that I haven't burst into tears over something,' she wiped at her eyes, allowing him to hold her hand as he guided her out of the store and to his car, where Tobi was waiting in the passenger seat.

The dark-haired Uchiha cousin tried to talk to her, but she just glanced around outside the vehicle's windows to check for anything suspicious while Itachi went back inside to buy whatever he'd initially come for.

All the while, she thought, 'Why am I even running anymore? I hate myself as it is. I should've just let him kill me.'

"Hey, we found her. I'll bring her home soon," Itachi's voice was music to Sasuke's ears.

He sighed, irritated because Sakura was obviously uninjured, or his brother would've said something about it first, "What's her problem?"

There was a pause before a response finally came, "I don't know. She's crying too hard to talk, but she doesn't have a mark on her. If you ask me, it looks like something spooked her, and she ran."

Earlier, when the Uchiha man called her, he could tell something was up by the tone of her voice, not to mention that she hung up on him. Since she was seen by so many people at the party on Saturday, everyone's initial thought was that someone nabbed her off the street for one of many possible reasons, each worse than the next.

'What's her fucking deal? The least she could do was send a text. God, she's annoying.'

The man was angry before all this, too, because she gave him the cold shoulder this morning, only to get all chummy with that white-haired teacher she'd been all over at the party. Sasuke swallowed his pride a dozen times over in order to get this close to Sakura, and now, after all that effort, it seemed she still wasn't focused solely on him.

'Who does she think she is? She told me to stay away from other women, yet she's all over that guy, and he's old as fuck, too.'

Sasuke's an extraordinarily possessive and jealous man and has been for as long as he can remember. As a child, he refused to share toys or school supplies. Though Sakura's a human and not an item, the same mindset applies to this situation.

He was set on going off on the woman when she got home, but his complaints evaporated upon seeing how drained she was upon arriving. She quietly apologized before going upstairs, leaving me to look at Tobi and Itachi for answers. They both shrugged, the former saying, "I think she was being followed. She kept looking around like she expected to see someone tailing us."

Itachi nodded, "I did check before coming here. Nothing seemed suspicious, but Sakura wouldn't act like this without a solid reason, right?"

Sighing, Sasuke ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the hallway she'd disappeared to, "Fuck, I don't know. One second she's fine, and the next she's…this," he paused before shaking his head and walking that way with a hand raised in a lazy wave, "Send someone out to watch the place tonight."

Upon arriving upstairs, he realized the woman was sitting on the edge of his bed with a pillow in her arms as she stared ahead with glazed-over eyes. He shut the door behind him and leaned against the desk, "So?"

"I thought I was being followed, and I didn't want to lead them here, so I just kept walking," her voice was tired and monotone.

Sasuke scoffed, "Okay, and why didn't you tell anyone? Yahiko was about to send search parties to look for your body, you idiot."

She shrugged, saying nothing.

'...Something's off about her tonight. Did something actually happen that she's not telling me?' Usually, Sakura would bite back at him for calling her an idiot, no matter the severity of the situation.

For the next two days, Sakura was simultaneously on edge because that I'm-being-watched feeling refused to falter and felt numb to anything and everything. Receiving that text really messed her up. It was on Thursday night that Sasuke apparently had had enough. Just as she was about to go to bed, he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

'What's he doing? Is he mad I haven't slept in his room or talked to him? I have other things to worry about right now.'

"I'm at my fuckin' limit, Sakura. What the hell is wrong with you?"

The woman sat on the edge of the bed and glared at him with a frown but said nothing because she didn't know what to say. During school on Tuesday, she'd gone over what she'd like to yell at him when they inevitably talk about the fact that he works for Akatsuki, and, subsequently, so does she, but that was before the whole stalker issue.

'I already told him I think I'm being followed. There's nothing else that he needs to know.'

Dark eyes were alight with emotion, most of which were on the angry side, "I can't fix anything if you don't tell me the damn problem, so spit it out. Is it because you still think someone's following you around? I already told you that's not true. We've had guys keeping an eye on things."

Sakura bluntly said, "I don't care if I'm being followed anymore."

Over the past few days, her psyche had fallen further into a depressive slump. All she wanted to do was cry, which pissed her off even more because that's all she's been doing all this time.

"...Okay, then what…?" Sasuke was visibly confused by her uncharacteristic demeanor. It was surprising it took this long for him to say something.

'His patience has definitely improved since we first met. Good for him.'

The woman stood, uncrossing her arms and meeting his gaze, "Listen, I just…I don't care."

Understanding met the Uchiha's eyes before they narrowed, his voice lowering, "Since when do you not care? All you've done since I've met you is care too much about every little fucking thing."

She shook her head, mumbling, "And look where that's gotten me."

A long silence passed between the pair before Sasuke's voice took on an undeniable threatening tone, his glare smoldering, "Whatever funk you're in is annoying as hell. What's it gonna take for you to knock it off?"

Sakura rolled her eyes, turning to prepare to get into bed again, "Good night, Sasuke." Apparently, the man didn't like that because he grabbed her arm and forced her to face him again. A flare of fear came over the woman, but she swallowed it quickly, "Let go."

His brow furrowed, and he hissed, "God damn it," before roughly grabbing her jaw and kissing her. On instinct, the woman's hands jumped to his shirt, holding it loosely as his free hand snaked around to the small of her back, pulling her closer and preventing escape. Only when the man forced his tongue past her teeth did Sakura realize what he was doing.

'He's pushing me until I get pissed off or scared enough to fight him.'

She still didn't care, so she kissed him back calmly, very much not matching his irritated energy. The next thing Sakura knew, he reached behind them to absently search for the lightswitch before finding it, turning the lights off, and returning his hand to her jaw, only for it to slide back into her hair, where he tugged enough for it to sting, but not enough to truly hurt.

Her head fell back with a soft gasp, and Sasuke hungrily kissed her neck, whispering into her skin, "I won't stop."

Amidst the heated makeout session, the man rid himself of his shirt. Then, he tugged hers off, too. The pair fell onto the bed, him forcing himself between her legs so he could press against her. A spark of panic met Sakura's chest, and she tore her lips from his to stop further reactions.

Sasuke dipped to kiss her collarbone, hands dancing down to maneuver her pajama pants down her legs and off, tossing them away carelessly before coming down again. Large hands with calloused, long fingers greedily felt every inch of bare skin. The sensation was as pleasurable as it was scary.

'Wait…this is scary. This is exactly what he wanted, that prick.' That said, Sakura wasn't anywhere as nervous as she thought she'd be.

Her focus snapped when the man's voice met her ears again, hot breath dusting against the moist skin of her shoulder, "I'll fuckin' do it, Sakura. I'm serious."

For some reason, even though Sasuke had succeeded in getting her out of her numb funk by pushing her past her sober limits, the pink-haired woman didn't want him to stop.

The eager touches of his skin to hers and the rushed press of his lips made a heat pool between her legs that'd become a sensation she affiliated with terror because her ex-boyfriend had turned something as natural and cathartic as sex into an act solely used to show dominance. Sakura could mask her fear until then because she began to tremble, recalling the last few times she'd gone through with the act, whether by her own will or not.

The Uchiha man made a low sound deep in his chest, obviously having noticed, but he didn't stop, just like he said he wouldn't. No, he slid his tongue into her mouth, kissing her passionately while running a hand down the front of her body until it met the hem of her underwear.

Sakura's eyes squeezed closed more tightly when his fingers slid beneath the cloth to touch her intimately. He quickly found the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs, toying with and teasing her. She felt like a puppet on strings, the way he expertly made sharp bursts of lightning-hot pleasure shoot through her lower regions.

'Oh, fuck. What am I even doing? Why am I letting him touch me like this? It feels way too good. …I don't want him to stop.'

The point came that she could no longer keep her breathing steady, and an exasperated moan was muffled between their tongues as she finally gave in to the man's relentless technique. This entire time, she'd been keeping the responses to a minimum and showing no excitement, but now she's only reacting to the feelings and urges. Her back arched, and her head fell back.

Half-lidded green eyes met dark ones when Sasuke let the kiss end. He continued searching her face and quietly said, "I'll make it good. Don't stop me."

'He said it like a command, but really, he's asking if it's okay to keep going now that I'm back in my right mind.' Sakura nodded with a blush steadily rising to her cheeks.

The man's gaze was intense and unrelenting, as though he refused to miss a second. The fingers beneath her underwear disappeared because he reached beneath her to unhook her bra, tossing it aside once removed. Then, he sat back on his knees and slid her panties down her legs until Sakura lay naked with her legs bent over his hips.

She was able to hold his gaze for a moment but quickly buckled and covered her face with both hands. It was expected that Sasuke would either tease her or tear her hands away, but he did neither. Instead, he came down to kiss between her breasts, fondling her chest appreciatively before moving lower. His lips dusted against her stomach and lower abdomen before a wet and wild heat erupted between Sakura's legs.

Her hands immediately shot down to grip handfuls of the sheet, her back arching as she hissed, "A-Ah, not so-!" 'He wasn't lying. This is incredible. Has it ever felt this good? I don't think so. Jesus, fuck, he'll kill me.'

Sasuke wasn't wasting time teasing or edging the woman. He was determined to throw her recklessly over the edge as quickly as possible like it was his life's mission or something. Soon, Sakura was millimeters away from climax and began to panic because it'd been a long time since it happened, which scared her.

Tears in her eyes, she whispered, "S-Sasuke! Sasuke, stop, or I'll-!" It was too late. All the air left the woman's lungs, her insides shaking like an earthquake. Just as quickly as she'd gone silent did she gasp, an embarrassing and breathy moan escaping her mouth as her back further arched off the bed.

When it passed, she panted for breath, tears running down the sides of her face to drip into her hair and eyes wide with shock. 'It was good. It was better than good, and we didn't even have sex.'

More than Sakura was impressed with Sasuke's skills, she was surprised she made it through the experience without having a panic attack. Maybe she felt grateful to him for helping her overcome one of her fears, or perhaps she was simply caught up in the mood again, something becoming more typical for the pair, but when Sasuke climbed over her, pressing chaste kisses up her body until they met her neck, she reached down and fumbled to unbuckle his belt.

He paused, but only momentarily, before returning to what he was doing.

Sakura's skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat as she unzipped and unbuttoned his pants to slide a hand beneath the cloth and feel the hardened length begging to be released completely. 'It feels big….'

Slowly, the woman rolled over on top of him, switching their positions so she could sit between his legs, lower his pants enough to pull his sex free, and come forward to slide it into her mouth. The man watched her with an arm behind his head, the other hand keeping long strands of pink hair out of her face, and a hyper-focused expression. Sakura's face remained warm, only getting hotter, as she met his eye only to avert her gaze bashfully while continuing the sexual favor.

"Look at me." Sasuke's firm voice stunned the woman enough to follow the order, and when their eyes met, he said, "Don't look away," in the same tone.

'What the hell has gotten into her?!'

Sasuke's teeth gritted as he watched Sakura's bashful face turn one darker shade of red after another. Upon kissing her, he expected to be shoved away before they reached this point. Not only did she let him touch and taste her, but now she's returning the favor, and quite skillfully if he dared say so himself.

'She looks shy, but her mouth doesn't feel that way. Is it because I haven't had this done in a few weeks, or is she actually this good?' The man's muscles flexed as he got closer and closer to losing his composure, the fingers in her soft hair tightening as he guided the speed to increase, 'Damn it, this is dangerous.'

To communicate that he was close, Sasuke released her entirely. His dark eyes narrowed as hers widened with realization. Tears welled in them, and he realized she didn't know what to do.

"You don't have to swallow it," he said quietly, his voice strained as he clung to his self-control for as long as possible.

Sakura nodded, her brow furrowing. At the very last moment, she slid him out of her mouth and lowered her gaze to his cock as she adjusted her position so the white, cloudy substance splattered over her chest instead.

For a very long pause, the pair stared at one another with surprised expressions. Neither expected this to happen; that was a fact. Since his blood had begun to flow back into his brain rather than his manhood, Sasuke began to feel a little guilty. The pink-haired woman sat up, looking down at her chest in the dark room.

Still, he watched appreciatively, 'That's a sight for sore eyes.' A gorgeous woman sitting naked between his legs after giving him a blowjob was satisfying, 'She doesn't look all pure and innocent anymore.'

Wavy pink hair flowed around her shoulders and down her back. The blush on her face was visible even though there was very little light, as was the glisten of the substance he'd given to her chest. The woman was slender and covered in scars. Sasuke thought she looked gorgeous. Her curves were humble but elegant and pretty. She was the picture of femininity in his eyes.

"I-I, um…."

Upon hearing her shaky voice, he snapped out of his daze, sitting up and hesitantly lifting a hand. When Sakura didn't shy away, he gently brushed her hair behind her ear, "If you're pissed, I completely get it. Just hit me and tell me to leave if you want."

The woman's brow furrowed, but she shook her head, averting her gaze to his chest, "I would've told you no if I didn't want it," she closed her eyes, covering them with one hand, "I'm just…. I've only ever done this with one other person, so I probably didn't do that well. I'm really embarrassed."

Sasuke's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening slightly as he took in her words, 'What? One other person? That can't be true! Someone who looks like her had to have had men lining up!'

"You're probably used to more experienced and confident women. I'm sorry-" "Shut up," he cut her off. She slowly dropped her hand, meeting his eye nervously. He shook his head, glaring, "Don't be an idiot. If I didn't like it, I would've said something, so don't say some shit like that again, got it?"

Sakura quickly nodded, obviously taken aback by his irritation. He shook his head, nodding toward the abandoned clothes on the floor, "Go wipe that off so we can go to sleep." Again, she nodded, this time climbing off the bed to do as requested. Sasuke watched her slim figure with warmth in his chest, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Sighing, he fell back against the pillows with glazed-over eyes directed at the ceiling, 'That was fucking magnificent.'

#haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #sasuke #sakura #sasusaku #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #narutofanfiction #naruto shippuden fanfiction #naruto #naruto shippuden #narutofanfic #naruto fanfiction

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purposelynana · 1 year ago

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What Did I Watch: #33

This week, I watched it scrambled like a fucking egg. Happy Eid btw. International dates for Eras Tour is out. I'm dead.

Perhaps I'm too used with people in their 20's acted like they were in their 30's and it was total cringe-fest. Or people in their 30's tried to convince me they were still college students. (Yeah you see where this is going). I don't know about Thailand entertainment industry but one thing, somehow they just don't have fucking clue how to cast someone. But at least from casting division I could really tell, people behind Step By Step were in fact adults with working jobs. Not some kind of teenager getting paid for making fan fiction in visual media.

I came to an understanding that Step By Step will be slow as fuck. I think this was a deliberate move by Tee Bundit. Because you deal with a potential HR violation in which could turn into catastrophic effect to both Pat and Jeng's career. You just can't make them kiss by episode 5 and called it done. But this brought new potential disaster that I didn't see it coming in the first 8 episode. Clearly this show doesn't have a seasoned editor and most importantly, but rarely people mention it, a script supervisor.

Because it has unclear timeline, jumpy transitions between scenes, and weird storylines that didn't push the narrative. It felt like it has so many great scattered ideas but not one conjoined constructive story.

In the article above, it explained that script supervisor responsible to maintain the continuity of its script. There were just too many continuity errors and it's such a pity because it already has the idea and goal, yet the journey seemed taking us to too many places.

I could go on and on about how not having a script supervisor could potentially ruining a series. But Step by Step is not finish yet and fucking let's hope it could stick the landing. It's going to have a rough landing but fingers crossed. (I just saw the preview for ep 12, it is a rough landing indeed. Prove me wrong universe.)

youtube

Oh god this little show. What a gem.

I have so much heart and love for Our Dining Table. If this was person, I'm going to hug them until I'm shattered to pieces.

It was hard to be an adult, lonely as fuck, having family but not really felt their presence. I have so much love for this show and yet it doesn't feel enough.

I'm almost 30, and yes I'm fucking tired to just watch myself never get to be represented correctly. A lot of these actors are on the same age as me and yet the story seemed never going anywhere. High school students, college students, barely office romances, and damn even I couldn't even get period dramas without having to deal with censorship (dammit China). When you got older, you resent everything, you became critical with everything. Even I'm no longer consider My School President is that good after I praised it earlier this year. In the end, series that I deemed good is the one that I felt so much connection to it. My emotional investment has to be in all time high. Like what I felt towards this.

The scene that breaks me into million pieces. You just need one person to tell you, you have done enough.

Lastly, I want to talk La Pluie. I don't know where this show's going. I'm scared. Because it could turned out to be great or it could end up like anything else, standard. The whole shenanigans about soulmates, love and everything in between got me thinking. Soulmates is definitely, most certainly, not fate. It's constantly changing, depends on your situation, your willingness, and your effort.

The characters in here, they were learning that they couldn't treat soulmates as if it were fate. As if it something already defined by God.

It is not. So I could understand Lomfon weird reaction on his newfound illness. Because he heard Tai's voice during rain, Tai must be (undoubtedly) his soulmate. Dude sounded like a kid, who wants to know reasons behind everything. Somehow I could sympathize him a little bit more, if the actor knew how to enhance his emotions. It wasn't bad acting, but yeah it kinda dull time to time, to the point I was out when he's in the screen. But yeah it's pulp, what can I expect? People acted like their life depend on it?

#Spotify #what did i watch #step by step #our dining table #la pluie #Youtube

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j-graysonlibrary · 1 year ago

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The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four Chapter 35

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 118k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: In order to save the world from the continuous subjugation and potential annihilation at the hands of Tiandi, hard lines must be drawn. The Great Spirits that were imprisoned ages ago must be unsealed and awakened, no matter the consequences.

The players are divided—those who stand blindly with Tiandi, such as Xiang Merra and her disciples versus those who want to tear the system down and give the power back to the people. Even a few of the most religious Lords change their minds when they learn the truth of the world—that Tiandi is no more than a dictator with no love in his heart.

It is up to the last, real Xiang and the ill-fated Chaaya to put everything they have into tearing God from his throne and creating new possibilities for the future.

Full chapter 35 under the cut

Chapter XXXV:

Pangu had not given himself time to think about them out of fear of it distracting him but, seeing them in the moment brought the rush of emotions back to him. His worry, his anxieties, his premature mourning, and the absolute horror at having, possibly, been the cause of their deaths.

He jumped to his feet and ran over, bringing them both into a hug. “I am so glad you are okay!”

“We were fine,” Kira said and patted him on the back, “You were the one attempting to fight the fire lizard on your own, crazy.”

“Yeah, if anyone was worried, it was us,” Baiya seconded with a laugh.

Pangu pulled away, not caring that his tears were flowing. They were probably making pretty definitive streaks on his face, through the dust and smoke. “I watched the tower collapse. I had no idea what happened to you two…”

Kira gave Baiya a quick look but then returned to Pangu. He slapped a hand on his shoulder and smirked. “Like I said, we’re fine.”

Baiya nodded and the relief finally washed over Pangu entirely. His breath hitched and he grabbed his partner by the sides of his face and yanked him into a kiss.

“Well,” Kira said, turning his attention to the women on the ground, “I do have some bad news, unfortunately.”

Pangu parted from Baiya and turned to hear it.

“What?” Loa asked as she rubbed circles along Phay’s back.

“We went to find the lord of Cidney and, well…he’s dead.” Kira leaned against some nearby rubble and crossed his arms over his chest. “He and a handful of his guards were crushed by a collapsed ceiling so…”

“Who will take care of the city?” Loa asked.

“I will,” Phay answered as if it was obvious.

Kira offered, “I can bring over your troops or, at least, some of them. That way you can have a group you trust with you.”

“Well if you are staying here then so am I,” Loa insisted. “Someone has to make sure you do not overexert yourself.

Baiya watched his sister and debated whether he should object to her suggestion or not. She was grown, after all, and she could make her own decisions. Not only that but she was capable of defending herself and she was acting out of more than just self interest. She loved Phay, yes, but she also loved Agni.

His chest ached but it was pride, not worry.

“You will be alright?” he asked anyway.

She stood up and nodded with a smile. “Can I borrow my brother for a moment?” she asked Pangu and he gladly stepped to the side so she could hug him.

Pangu moved closer to Phay and helped her to her feet. “So, what will you do about Phaos? Lord San?”

She sighed and brushed off some soot from her armor. “Probably send an envoy, just to see. I worry Ashoka will have him on her side.”

“Speaking of,” Kira said with a finger raised, “Where did she go?”

“I do not sense her anywhere,” Pangu noted, “She must have fled.”

“Or died.” Phay seemed a little too eager about that being the case.

“Either way, she is no problem for you at the moment.” Pangu gave a weak smile. He did not get the feeling the disciple was dead though she was probably injured from the fall. Whether she came back at all was of no real concern though since she would be in no position to harm Phay.

***

Only Phay went with Kira through the miasma portal so he did not have to spend too much of his energy after the Salamander ordeal. Plus, she was the only one who was really needed on the other side.

Her encampment was far larger than the last time they had been and, even more surprising, it had not been moved. Kira glanced around as the soldiers quickly took note of their presence. He stayed back as Phay was welcomed like a hero and her second-in-command filled her in on everything that had happened in the past few months.

If he was to take even a quarter of the people back through a portal, he would be spent.

Just as Kira started to debate the maximum number he could support, one of the soldiers walked up to him. Or, he assumed they were a soldier until he actually turned his head.

“You?” he remarked with surprise as Ishtar, dressed in light armor with her hair tied back, stood at his side. “I nearly didn’t recognize you in that.”

“It is a different look,” the woman said, setting a hand on her hip. “Took some getting used to.”

Kira arched an eyebrow. “What made you?”

“There is no money in the underground while everyone is focused on whether or not Agni will even exist by the end of the year.” Ishtar made it sound as if her business was solely the thing that mattered but Kira remembered her face when she spoke of Merra’s plans for the country. Perhaps she only cared about Agni so long as it benefited her but there was some pride laced in there too.

“Alright well, speaking of money, you still owe me some for batting Merra’s army back.” Kira smirked.

“I never offered a bonus,” Ishtar countered, “But perhaps I could spot you a few coin. After all, I heard you killed one of the Heavenly Princes. What a terrifying Chaaya you have become,” she spoke with a crooked smile.

Kira snickered. “The worst the land has ever seen.”

Ishtar was among the group that came with them, once Phay was done explaining the situation to her troops. Her second-in-command helped to divide the soldiers accordingly and Kira opened a portal back to Cidney with a hefty breath.

As expected, it nearly depleted him but Pangu was quick to run to his side and offer some of his energy to compensate. Normally, Kira would have pushed him away and told him to keep it but, in that instant, he really needed the help—as much as it pained him to admit.

“Ah, Baiya, I see you two are back together,” Ishtar said, making her way over to their group while Phay reconvened with Loa.

“Who…?” Baiya had to do a double take. “Ishtar?!”

“I was surprised too,” Kira admitted as he removed Pangu’s hands from his. He would take no more than what was absolutely necessary. There was plenty of miasma in Cidney to siphon anyway, he thought and then returned to the topic at hand: Ishtar. “She is a noble Agni soldier now.”

“Do not misrepresent me,” she scoffed before her eyes landed on Pangu. “Oh, the ex-Xiang.”

“…Did we know each other before?” Pangu asked, clearly worried. He wasted no time covering for himself with an explanation, “I lost my memory and not every event or person has fully come back.”

When all three of them laughed, he was further puzzled.

“We did not meet,” Ishtar said, “Though I was promised a meeting with you the last time you were in Cidney…”

“Do not,” Baiya warned while Kira cackled.

“What does it matter now?” he challenged, “Pangu will not be scandalized.”

“I…” Baiya started and then stopped, resorting to a disgruntled huff.

Pangu glanced between them and then set a hand on his lover’s arm. “Does this have anything to do with why you and Kira were gone for so long when we were here?”

“Yes, they killed my men and threatened me,” Ishtar blurted out though she seemed wholly unbothered by their past troubles. In fact, she kept a smug smile on her lips the entire time. “I was looking to cash in on your body parts—nothing personal—but these two got wind of it, arranged a meeting with me, lied about kidnapping you to sell you to me, and then attacked once I arrived. As I said, they killed my men then held me at the point of a blade and told me to leave you alone or else they would kill me next time.”

Pangu’s jaw dropped and he looked up at Baiya who would not make eye contact. “Baiya!” he half scolded and half laughed, “Why did you keep this from me?”

“He did not want you to think badly of him. He was still trying to impress you,” Kira said, “I even wanted to kill Ishtar then and there but Baiya was the one who said no. Because he did not want to dirty his hands more than necessary just in case you did find out.”

“It is a good thing too,” Ishtar cut in, “Not just for the fact I enjoy living but if you had slit my throat then, the two of you would have been lost once Pangu bit the dust.”

“You know, it is strange that you have no questions about his resurrection,” Baiya said, furrowing his brow.

“I have already heard. How it happened, I do not know—nor do I care, really—but the point remains. I gave you both jobs and information so I am sure you are glad you kept me alive. I suppose we should all thank Baiya’s crush on the Xiang.”

Even Pangu laughed, slapping against Baiya’s arm all the while. The Agni disciple could only sigh and hang his head.

Phay and Loa circled back to them, ready to say their final goodbyes. Baiya hugged his sister once more and they left the city in the Agni lord’s capable hands, knowing that they would see her again soon. She was both essential for further planning against Merra and she now had the link to Salamander as well.

Ishtar waved, beside the rest of the Agni soldiers, as they passed through the miasma portal.

Once back in the caves, there was an immediate need for rest—especially for Kira. Pangu kept his arm on him as they landed on the other side of the abyss and he scanned the room for Raine, trying to force his eyes to adjust.

“We are back!” he called out when he did not hear anything for a while.

“Kira!” Raine sounded first as he ran over, “What happened? Where are the women?”

“My sister and Phay stayed behind to plan and organize,” Baiya answered, “Salamander chose Phay.”

“Knew it,” May announced with a snicker before the wind left her sails, “Aw, wait, so no more girl time.”

“You still have me,” Chandes chimed in.

“What happened?” Raine’s voice went quiet, asking only the returning group. He pulled Kira into his arms, offering his body for him to lean against.

“Kira brought over Phay’s army to Cidney…” Pangu sighed. “It took a lot out of him.”

He had drawn in a lot of miasma to compensate for his lack of energy. If he was anyone other than Kira, Pangu would have been terrified he would die of miasma poisoning by the end of the night. Yet, even though he knew he was stronger than most in that regard, he still struggled to see him in such a state.

“…s’ fine,” Kira argued with a grumble.

“Get him to bed,” Baiya told Raine and the first disciple nodded.

They retreated down the tunnels and Baiya and Pangu were left to answer all the questions. It was kept brief since it was becoming, more and more, clear that Baiya was exhausted as well.

When the two returned to their room, they finally met with Kaz and Viren.

“Oh, we did not hear you come in,” Kaz said, a look of concern and slight frustration on his face. He was sitting next to Viren who was laid back, resting with his eyes closed. It was obvious he was not asleep only by the way his brow moved in response to the talking and commotion.

“Still feeling drained?” Baiya asked and joined them on the bed. He, too, was ready to sleep so he settled next to Viren.

“Mmm…yes.”

Pangu looked at the three of them, especially Viren, and his heart felt as heavy as a boulder. He knew he needed to work on planning their next move but all he really wanted to do was spend time with them.

But there would never be enough time for all he wanted.

Even the next day, as soon as he was out of his room, he was spirited away by Gong and Parvati who said they needed to discuss something with him.

His mind was still on Viren and how sluggish he was but he tried to focus on his old mentor, especially with the overly serious look on his face.

“You did an amazing job on freeing all of the Great Spirits,” he opened with, “but some of us believe it may not be enough still.”

“Me and my sisters,” Parvati elaborated.

And, as though she were summoned, Devi joined them. Pangu expected more but it was just the eldest that showed up.

“Mother has regained some strength and willpower from her children being set free,” Devi said and clasped her hands together, “But if she is to return to how she was before all of this pain and suffering…then…”

Pangu looked between them and noted the somber expression shared between the Mistresses and even Gong. He frowned. “Then what?”

“We are all a part of Shakti, Pangu,” Parvati said and grasped his shoulders. “When she was first wounded by the loss of her children, she felt so alone and despaired that she bled out miasma for a century.”

“And, eventually, some of that miasma responded to her loneliness,” Devi continued and pointed at her own chest, “I came into existence.”

“And, mother lost some of her sense of self and her memories in the process,” Parvati sighed, releasing Pangu before saying, “It was the same with each of us. We were all made when her anguish built up too much and had to be released. She, quite literally, cut out her pain and we are the result. But, along with being the emotions she no longer could handle, we are also her. She cannot return to her old self while we still exist.”

Pangu heard his blood pumping in his ears and he continued to look back and forth between them. “So you…intend to die?”

“We will not kill ourselves in a hurry,” Devi stated with a chuckle, “but, without us, Shakti may still be vulnerable compared to Tiandi. Our sacrifice may be necessary.”

Gong spoke up, “It is not dissimilar with Tiandi.”

“I did hear from Badou that a part of Tiandi was placed into each of you…so…” Pangu paused. “Does that mean, since Zhu is dead, Tiandi is, actually, stronger?”

“Probably.” He nodded. “However, if we want a chance to actually kill Tiandi then he will need to be whole as well.”

Pangu looked down at the floor, almost wanting to laugh just so he did not have to cry. “So you all need to die in the end?”

“We are prepared to return to mother,” Devi mentioned and glanced to Parvati who, in turn, looked to Gong.

“Yes,” she agreed, “And I am sure the idea of being separated from that Tian aspect is rather compelling, even in the face of a second death.”

“It is.” Gong smiled but he could not keep it up. “Pangu, I know you wanted to save us as well but…some sacrifices are necessary to ensure the greatest amount of lives is protected.”

His wording made him think of Kira and Viren. And himself. He also realized that, had he just meditated on it a while longer, Gong could not survive the final fight with his Tian aspect still in place. But the Mistresses, he had hoped, could have been saved…

Pangu exhaled the same time Kira did from the far side of the cave system, tucked away in another room. He had been asked to visit with Shakti and, along with her, there was Kali, Chandes, and Ziyi. Their reason for calling their Chaayas was quite the same as why Pangu had been summoned by Gong for their meeting.

Ziyi looked between the Mistresses and held Browly in his arms despite the dog’s struggles to free himself. “Wait, so you will all be gone?”

“We will return to Shakti and be one,” Kali restated.

“Had this been your plan all along?” Kira asked with a raised eyebrow. If so, he would have liked to have known, even if it would not have changed his approach to things much.

“It was always something they spoke of,” Shakti answered and shifted her gaze between Kali and Chandes.

“Ever since I was born, the rest realized how bad of a mistake it was,” Chandes said and chuckled. “But, seriously, we knew we were taking power and memories from mother we just…couldn’t do anything about it.”

“With the four Great Spirits now free, it seems like there is a real chance at victory over Tiandi,” Kali continued, looking at Kira. “I…I had not ever dreamed a day like this would come. Had you asked me a year ago what I assumed the future for us and Shakti looked like I would have told you that there would be more Mistresses and that we might, eventually, overtake Tiandi by pure force but…”

“Aww, are you getting sentimental, Kali?” Chandes snickered.

The Mistress hissed and swatted at her. “You really are annoying,” she said before returning to face Kira. With a hefty sigh, she mumbled, “I suppose I should thank you or whatever for sticking by Shakti even if you did things in the most convoluted way possible. You still freed the Great Spirits…”

“No need to thank me,” Kira responded with a crooked smile.

Kali’s brows pinched together and her jaw set. “Just accept the thanks.”

Ziyi, completely ignoring them, continued to stare at Chandes. The Mistress, despite having just said she would no longer be around by the end, seemed as carefree and happy as always. It made him doubt what he had been told.

So he asked for a little clarification. “So, are you going to die or just, sort of, disappear…?”

“Oh, can’t wait to get rid of me?” She challenged with her hands on her hips.

“Obviously,” he replied and set his dog down. Of course, he ran directly up to Chandes and begged for her attention.

She picked him up and held him, rocking him back and forth while his nub of a tail wagged. When he licked her, she laughed. “Well Browly will miss me at least. Won’t you, buddy?”

Ziyi rubbed his knuckle along the corner of his eye, catching a tear before it could fall. “You will be back with Shakti so you will not be entirely gone. I bet you will find a way to reach out and give me nightmares or something. No way you would ever completely leave me in peace.”

#the xiang chronicles #my novel #my writing

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1kook · 4 years ago

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viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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opalesense · 4 years ago

Note

um um hiii! im like literally in l o v e with ur writing, especially the diluc and kaeya stories (im such a simp omg) and was wondering if you could do some more diluc x reader x kaeya nsfw—

ofc you can ignore this but ty if you consider it!! stay hydrated and safe ily <3

over the counter

diluc x f!reader x kaeya (NSFW)

6.5k words • ~40 min. read

summary: after a tense night at the tavern, kaeya accidentally forgets his belongings and comes back to see you and diluc having an intimate moment – or maybe it wasn’t an accident...

warnings: slight degradation, a lot of jealousy!! drama!!

notes: reader is in a relationship with diluc beforehand just to switch things up a little from my last fic! also this fic favors diluc a lot more so diluc simps come get your juice ;D thanks for waiting anon ily too <3 i’m so sorry this took so long T_T

SPENDING WEEKEND NIGHTS AT THE TAVERN was not uncommon for you. In fact, whether you were in the mood to drink or not, one of the main reasons you frequently visited the bar was to keep Diluc company, who greatly appreciated the effort you put into making sure he didn’t feel alone while he worked. Evenings with the two of you were often spent idly chatting while he served drinks, which surely kept his spirits up throughout the longer and busier nights. Customers usually commented about how Diluc always seemed to have a grin on his face when you were around, unlike some other nights where his deadpan expression often intimidated the people of Mondstadt and subsequently intimidated the customers themselves.

That didn’t stop business from booming, of course. As long as the alcohol was good and quickly served, customers couldn’t care less about how intimidating Diluc could be. Neither would they care about how he would sneak some free drinks to your seat across the bar if you asked for it, or how he would shyly rest his hand on top of yours if the night was slow and no one was paying attention.

In the end, on weekend nights when you were sitting in your favorite seat at the bar that was conveniently never taken no matter how busy the night was (or maybe not so convenient, since Diluc always made sure to secretly reserve it when the weekend rolled around), people knew never to bother the two of you. After all, on nights when Diluc was happy, he gave spectacular service to bargoers, who decidedly took advantage of this hospitality and thus visited Angels Share more often knowing the atmosphere was better if you were there.

But of course, as soon as a certain blue haired customer walked into the establishment to take his long awaited night off of the week, Diluc couldn’t help but shake his head at you and sarcastically remark, “Well, here comes trouble...”

“What, are you not happy to see me, brother?” After placing his belongings down, Kaeya took his seat next to you and shot you a friendly grin to briefly acknowledge your presence. “I’ve been coming here after work almost every night for so long – have you finally gotten tired of me already?”

Diluc rolled his eyes and began making a Death After Noon for his brother, already knowing the specific bittersweet flavor he likes without Kaeya needing to ask. “Come to think of it, it’s about time I take off that family discount of yours, I’ve been too nice to you these past months.”

Kaeya crossed his arms as he leaned forward on the counter with a scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I need financial compensation for the headache that you induce whenever you’re in the same vicinity as me,” Diluc joked as he finished making the drink then set it in front of Kaeya, who took the glass with a pout and turned to face you.

“You hear this guy? Financial compensation... as if he needs it, being the richest jerk in all of Mondstadt to date.”

“Watch your tone, idiot,” Diluc snapped back as he turned to serve another awaiting customer.

There was no doubt that the two seemed to get along quite well as of late. At first it was almost as if they were both trying to impress you by showing you that they could be nice to each other as per your request, but as time passed, competition turned into a slow realization of having genuine concern for each other, and the brothers have been on the road to reconciliation ever since. Even when Diluc ended up being the one to completely sweep you off your feet and steal your heart, Kaeya never showed any opposition and even encouraged your relationship. “Despite everything, you truly deserve her, ‘Luc,” you overheard him reassure Diluc months ago after admitting defeat in their competition.

There was no doubt that you loved Diluc more than anything. He provided you with everything you could ever ask for, from emotional support and material things to overwhelming satisfaction in the bedroom. But at the back of your mind, especially on slightly tipsy nights such as this one, lies a certain lingering thought about that certain blue haired brother. Was it so bad to fantasize about being pressed between the two? Was it so bad to imagine the feeling of being fondled and manhandled by both of them at the same time? Was it so bad to be at least curious about being shared between the two?

You took a sip of your free drink as you stared blankly at the dents on the wooden counter.

Maybe it is bad, you thought.

After all, if Diluc mentioned that he wanted a threesome with someone else, you wouldn’t exactly be ecstatic about it.

That’s why you would never mention these fantasies to either of them, despite trusting them both with all of your secrets after being close with them for so long. You were scared of how Diluc would react to your curiosity. You were scared he would get the wrong impression and that your relationship would come tumbling down as a consequence of your little fantasy.

Maybe it is bad.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Kaeya snapping his fingers in front of your face. His head was tilted to the side as if he were trying to meet your downturned gaze. “Hey. Did I lose you? What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I was just lost in thought,” you ignored the subtle compliment and averted your eyes from the counter to look at Kaeya’s face, the shadows of the dimly lit tavern casting on him at the perfect angle to show off his features. You had to admit he was handsome - hell, all of Mondstadt surely thought so too. You glanced around nervously looking for Diluc to see a glimpse of his fiery hair heading up the stairs to the second floor, presumably to serve a table. He was understaffed today, you remember him saying.

“What were we talking about again?” you asked Kaeya, a little dazed and confused, overwhelmed by the reality of the moment. The clinking of glasses throughout the tavern, the bard playing the lyre in the corner, and the large group of rowdy men at a nearby table flooded your senses, leaving you a bit dizzy with no help at all from the alcohol. He simply laughed, gazing down as he swirled his own drink in his glass then met your eyes once more.

“I was asking how you and Diluc have been,” his sharp stare contrasted with his soft grin as the currently sober man turned his stool to completely face you. There was intention in his eyes, but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what those intentions were. “I know he doesn’t like to catch up with small talk so I don’t like to bother asking him about what’s new.”

With the heel of your boot you decided to turn your stool to face him as well. Your knees were less than an inch away from touching his, which made you internally flustered given the fantasy you were just thinking about. You tried your best to keep your eyes on his face, ignoring his exposed skin just under his neck. He tilted his head back and took a sip of his drink then continued. “Besides, I enjoy talking to you more than him anyway.”

You could see right through him in this moment. Or at least, you thought you could. Maybe you were overthinking it, but you swore you could see his sapphire eyes slowly trail from your eyes down your body all the way to your grazing knees then dart back up again.

Maybe it was bad. Maybe it was the lighting.

“We’ve been doing good,” you nodded, studying his face more. “He’s been a lot happier recently since the two of you have been getting along more. Don’t tell him I told you that, though,” you leaned in slightly with a wink.

Kaeya let out a low chuckle at that and looked down at his glass again, taking a moment to form his next words. With a nod, he let out a sigh of relief. “That’s great. You’ve been looking a lot happier too, I can tell.”

“Oh? How exactly can you tell? We haven’t seen each other in a while,” you crossed your legs, feeling defensive, which accidentally brushed his in the process. You quietly apologized and he slightly lifted his hand up to excuse you.

“Oh, it’s nothing too crazy. It’s just the glow in your face and the pep in your step when I see you on the streets while I’m out patrolling. Seems like Diluc’s got one happy girl,” he tilted his head back for another sip, and for a moment, you saw his genial smile drop as he set his glass back down on the counter. But as quickly as he let go of his façade , he quickly masked his intentions again with a chuckle.

He seemed a little jealous, you thought. But before you could fully form a thought around that idea, Diluc came back with a tray in hand, empty glasses and mugs balancing on top of his palm. He carefully placed each of them into the sink and got to work on washing then drying them.

“How have you been, Kaeya?” he said with his back turned towards you both, “You weren’t flirting with my [Y/N] while I was gone, were you?”

“How could I do such a thing?” Kaeya huffed, seemingly offended. “Put some more faith in me, brother.”

Diluc turned around with a glass in hand, drying it with a rag and initially focusing his attention on Kaeya. You watched as the two stared at each other across the bar for a few moments, the air suddenly getting thicker as they both emanated a strange seriousness, almost as if they were arguing telepathically. Diluc’s intense stare burned into Kaeya’s cold expression, his arms tensing up so much that you thought he was going to break the glass in his hands. It was a little scary to witness how quickly the mood could change in only a few minutes, and feeling a little uncomfortable, you decided to stand up and make your way to the second floor balcony for some fresh air, away from the loud atmosphere of the main room and even further away from whatever random feud the brothers sparked up tonight.

The crisp air was meditative. It was soothing to stand on the balcony, leaning over the rail and staring into the night sky, letting your mind wander. Your days were often bustling with work and interacting with people so it was very rare to have a moment like this to yourself. At first, you figured it would be best to go back downstairs – after all, it had been a week since you’ve talked to Kaeya and it would be nice to catch up with your friend. But you weren’t sure why the mood was suddenly so tense, especially since nothing had really happened and as much as you knew how Diluc was protective over you, you felt like he was overreacting.

As you took slow sips of your drink, savoring the taste and gazing upon the night life of Mondstadt below, seconds turned into minutes, then minutes turned into an hours, and soon the moon had settled into the midnight sky and the tavern was nearing its closing time. You hadn’t realized that so much time had passed until Kaeya, who was usually the last customer to leave the tavern, whistled towards you from below as he was walking home, waving to get your attention then finally turning away and bidding farewell.

“Darling,” you heard a familiar voice behind you as you were waving back to Kaeya, “Did I do something to upset you?”

You turned to see a clearly apologetic Diluc standing in the balcony doorway, his arms crossed and hair messily thrown up into a ponytail. “Why didn’t you come back inside? We were waiting for you,” he quietly asked as he slowly approached you.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed his forehead against yours while rubbing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips which he gladly returned with several more gentle kisses across your face, humming slowly and patiently waiting for your response.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Diluc. I really just needed some fresh air. I’ve felt a little overwhelmed all night and didn’t notice how much time passed,” you muttered.

You were telling half the truth.

You didn’t want to admit that you thought Diluc was being a little overdramatic, and you certainly didn’t want to tell him that you were overwhelmed with the thought of being touched by him and his brother at the same time. Some things are better left unsaid.

Maybe that was bad. Maybe white lies were okay, only for now.

He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before nodding as he processed your words. “Let’s get you warmed up back inside, you must have been freezing out here.”

“I didn’t think this is what you meant by getting warmed up,” you softly giggled in between passionate kisses as his bare, warm hands traveled up your top to eventually pull the entire damned thing off. He tossed it off to the side mindlessly before unbuttoning his own uniform top and letting it drape next to yours over the bar stool it landed on.

“I’ve had a long night,” he trailed the kisses down to your neck, gently biting enough to only leave subtle marks and murmuring against your skin. He lifted you up onto the counter to get better leverage over you, slowly spreading your legs apart then continuing the kisses down your collarbone. “And you look so beautiful tonight, I can’t help myself.”

“Just make it quick, okay?” you nervously looked at the window behind him which allowed the moonlight to illuminate the already darkened bar but also allowed anyone who felt like peering in to clearly see the two of you getting touchy in the tavern. You let him press up against you regardless, feeling his bulge grind against your clothed hips desperately. “What if someone sees?” you whispered, teasing him with the idea of getting interrupted and caught, which you knew annoyed him to the core.

“Good,” he paused for a moment to look up at you, his hungry eyes burning into your memory. “Let them see that you’re clearly mine.”

Your heart throbbed at this sudden possessiveness and with a naughty smirk, you decided to give up the innocent act. With a few swift movements, the rest of your clothes were ripped off until you were half naked, the only remaining bit of modesty you had being the underwear that clinged to your skin until Diluc eventually pulled that off too, exposing you fully to him.

“So beautiful,” he sighed as he kneeled down in front of you, pulling your hips towards him then pinning your knees to the counter as he lowered his head to your aroused cunt. “And all mine.”

You couldn’t help but let out quiet, staggered breaths as he immediately wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling on the sensitive nub as his eyes remained glued to yours. “All y-yours,” you reaffirmed, which made him hum in appreciation.

He had never considered fucking you in the tavern before, especially since he rarely had the establishment all to himself for a shift, but just this once, he was happy he was understaffed tonight. All the frustrations he had endured this evening, from the annoying table on the main floor to bickering with Kaeya about things that didn’t seem to matter anymore led to this very moment where he hungrily licked your wet folds, burying himself into the sound of your hesitant moans and feeling himself harden by the second.

“P-Please fuck me already,” you breathlessly begged, “Please, Diluc, hurry…”

“Cum for me first,” his low voice muttered into your aching cunt, making your legs quiver, “Show me how much you really want it.”

The whine that escaped your throat was suddenly replaced with a gasp as Diluc pushed two fingers into you, immediately setting a quick pace and pressing into your sweet spot. “Cum for me, darling,” he let go of the grip on your leg to stand up and hover over your torso, leaning closer to your face and snaking his free hand up your back. “Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

“D-Diluc…!” you whimpered with a pout, which earned a hum of disapproval from him.

“Master Diluc,” he sternly reminded you, shifting his fingers into you quicker, causing your brain to malfunction as you began to tighten around him.

“M-Master…! I’m…!”

“Go on,” he ran his fingers through your scalp and grabbed a handful of hair, leaning down to kiss you and muffle your moans of pleasure as you finally reached your climax, gushing around his fingers and trembling at his touch. You whimpered in his mouth, muscles slightly spasming still as you started to calm down from your high and feel his fingers slowly pull out of you. While keeping his grip on your hair, he let go of the kiss and stuck out his tongue against his fingers, licking your fluids in front of you and smiling in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he said as he revelled in his favorite taste. You watched as he lapped up all the fluids, the mixture of cum and saliva glimmering on his fingers under the light of the moon through the window.

Speaking of which, you weren’t sure if it was the way you were slightly tipsy or perhaps the heat of the moment deceiving you, but through Diluc’s messy locks and shiny fiingers, you swore you saw a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue through the window. It was unmoving, sure, but it was there nonetheless, and it wasn’t there the last time you looked through the glass.

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was Kaeya.

Horror sunk into your chest for a fleeting moment, but you blamed it on the alcohol, and the way you were thinking about Kaeya and Diluc so much within the past few hours. Besides, all the thoughts you were having about the strange color in the window were replaced by the way Diluc unbuttoned his pants with one hand, the other still intertwined in your hair, then freed his cock and let it rest on your stomach as he slowly laid you down across the counter. He pulled you towards him once more so your head could rest on the wood, his hair-tangled hand acting as a cushion while his elbow took its place beside you so he completely caged you in. “Be quiet for me, okay? We don’t want to wake all of Mondstadt this late at night…”

“I’ll be good,” you promised him, letting your hands travel down to feel his length resting on your skin. It had some weight to it as you lifted it, and as if you two were mentally in perfect sync, he pulled his hips back to let you position the tip at your entrance.

Excitement boiled in your stomach as he slowly inched his hips forward, pushing his cock into you little by little, stretching your walls apart by the seams. Your mouth went agape with the sheer stretch alone and fighting the urge to moan had never been more difficult. Instead, the only sounds that filled the silent room was Diluc’s heavy breath as he closed his eyes from the way you wrapped around him so well, the gentle gasps and whimpers from you as he bottomed out and nearly hit your cervix, then the sudden rhythmic slapping of skin as he began to pound into you with no warning.

Your eyes rolled back into your head at the rush of pleasure that came with the rolling of his hips into yours. It was so difficult to keep quiet, so hard not to at least whimper and give tiny moans here and there as he fucked you silly on that bar counter, but he couldn’t care less since he told you to be quiet and expected you to follow suit. You knew that. He instead opted to gently wrap his hand on your throat without applying pressure – simply as a warning.

You couldn’t control your orgasm even if you wanted to. The way he stared into your eyes so desperately while his cock kissed your cervix repeatedly made you lose control so easily, and he took advantage of the way you tightened around him by fucking into you harder. Faster. Deeper.

“You’re so fucking good, darling,” his hazy eyes glanced down to your lips with the intent to lean down for a kiss. “You’re–“

A loud knock on the door startled the two of you enough for Diluc to stop his thrusts and look up towards the source of the noise, a few red strands of hair draping over your face and tickling your cheek. He stared intensely at the door, pushing into you again at snail speed as he waited for an indicator of who was the culprit of the noise.

Another knock sent a jolt up your spine – or maybe it was the way Diluc snapped his hips into you once then slowly pulled back to drag out the pleasure. With a frustrated huff, he decided to tighten the pressure around your neck and pound into you at the relentless speed he set before, quietly shushing you when you initially gasped in surprise.

After one more knock, Diluc lost his patience. It was his greatest pet peeve of interruption becoming a reality. “We’re closed!” his voice boomed loudly so the person on the other side of the door would surely hear him, startling you at the sudden break of silence. Clearly frustrated, he pounded into you faster, chasing his pleasure, knowing that he would need to deal with whoever was bothering the two of you this late at night and wanting to quickly reach his release before then.

“It’s me,” both of your eyes widened at the familiar voice, “I forgot my stuff at my seat, could you let me in real quick?”

Diluc turned his gaze down past your head to see that, as a matter of fact, Kaeya’s belongings were still at his seat from earlier. His eyebrow twitched as he quickly pulled himself off of you, leaving you quietly gasping for air and clenching around nothing.

“Get under the counter,” he whispered so quietly that you just barely heard him, “Don’t move a muscle.”

Following his command, you made you way under the counter, nestling your naked body next to a cabinet of liquor as you watched Diluc button his pants and loosely put his shirt back on, buttoning it while he walked around the bar towards the door. At that point, all you could do was listen to a set of keys jingle as he unlocked the tavern door and a gust of cold air rushed through the entrance, strong enough that you shivered behind the counter and hugged your knees to retain warmth.

“Get your things then get out,” Diluc bluntly greeted Kaeya, who chuckled in response.

“Aw, why the sudden hostility again?” you heard slow footsteps approach the bar, sending your heart racing with anxiety, “And why the disheveled appearance? Oh, let me guess–“

“Get your things. Then get out,” Diluc said more sternly. You could recognize that tone from anywhere. He was furious.

“But let me guess first! Judging by the way the tavern is still a mess, I know you weren’t cleaning up the place just now. And by the way your clothes are so messily put together even though they were so neat and tidy earlier, as well as the sweat on your forehead… Oh, don’t tell me I interrupted something intimate, dear brother!”

You didn’t need to see him to know that Diluc’s jaw was tensed, unable to form a response out of pure annoyance and frustration. And still, Kaeya pressed his buttons.

“You were fucking her real good,” he teased after waiting for a response and getting nothing from Diluc, ”I could hear it from outside the door.”

“I fucking hate you,” was all Diluc could say in response. He didn’t actually mean it, you knew this, but he was beyond irritated.

Kaeya shuffled to grab his belongings by his seat and turned to face the door. But as if he weren’t being petty enough, he reached into his bag for something and suddenly tossed it behind him – his house keys, which landed behind the bar right next to your feet. Your eyes widened at this. You swore you stopped breathing even if you didn’t mean to.

“I think I might have left something behind the counter too, mind if I check?”

The silence that followed was unbearable, even if it only lasted a few seconds. All of the sudden, your heart began to pound out of your chest, not only because of sheer fear and anxiety, but also because of the possibility that Kaeya would see you so vulnerable behind that counter, naked and hugging your knees, waiting for someone to hold you and ‘warm you up.’ Maybe he already did see you through that window. Maybe it wasn’t just your mind playing tricks on you.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Diluc, maybe I’ve gone too far–“

“No,” Diluc interrupted him, “Go ahead. Go get your keys.”

What?

“Seriously?” Kaeya scoffed in disbelief.

What are you doing, Diluc?

“Go on.”

What’s happening?

“‘Luc, I know she’s there, I’m just messing with you–“

“No, Kaeya,” Diluc turned to close the tavern door and lock it, “I know you’ve been eyeing her since the very beginning, even before I came along. I’m not even mad, I just feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that I took away someone you wanted so badly and that you haven’t been able to move on since.”

Diluc took a few steps towards the speechless brother and lowered his voice, still maintaining the same intensity and dragging out his words. “So why don’t you go behind the counter and get your fucking keys? While you’re there, you might as well fuck my girlfriend with me too, since you want her attention so badly.”

The room froze in time, only for a moment. Thoughts began to flood your mind – why would Diluc say that, especially since he was usually very protective over you? Should you refuse to let Kaeya see you, or let it happen? After all, it’s not like you weren’t at least a little bit curious how this situation would unfold...

While you sat in the corner naked and trembling, you held back your breath and listened to Kaeya’s footsteps slowly drag across the wooden floor, the creaking getting closer and closer until he was in your peripheral vision. “Diluc,” he immediately turned away once he saw you sitting there, exposed and cold, then let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Come now, Kaeya,” Diluc stepped in front of him to enter the bar and suddenly grab your arm, lifting you up with no hesitation and making you gasp in embarassment. He pinned your arms behind your back and turned to make you face Kaeya, whose eyes were glued to the opposite wall out of a little bit of respect. “How about we make this a competition, since you seem to love competing so much?”

“Diluc,” you whimpered as you tried to struggle out of his grasp with no success, which you didn’t complain about because a part of you wanted to unravel this situation even further. “Please…”

“Please what, darling?” he muttered into your ear from behind, “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been pining for him too.”

“N-No, of course not,” you whined, “I just…”

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was bad, but you were going to do it anyway.

You pressed yourself against his hips, gently grinding on his erection and letting out small whimpers. Just like Diluc, you hated being interrupted and couldn’t exactly think straight. All of this petty arguing didn’t matter to you, especially since you wanted them both from the beginning either way. In an attempt to admit your secret without explicitly saying it, you mustered up the courage to mutter, “Please, both of you, stop fighting and just… fuck me…”

Diluc tightened his grip around you with a grin, letting out a low scoff. “Slut. I knew you were a slut,” your eyes widened and stomach burned in excitement at the sudden degrading nickname he called you, “I bet you’ve been thinking about something like this for a while, haven’t you?”

You sheepishly nodded as he slowly pushed you back onto the counter, this time laying you on your stomach and bending you over. “I won’t deny that I’ve been thinking about the same thing lately,” he started to unbutton his top again as you raised an eyebrow at this new information. He huffed with annoyance as he unbuttoned his pants and turned his head to the dumbfounded brother across the bar. “Kaeya, either grab your keys and go or stay here and keep her mouth occupied. I’ll let you decide – just make it quick and quit standing there.”

With your head dangling off the counter, you watched as Kaeya slowly turned around to face the two of you, studying the scene for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. As if he finally made a decision, he put down his belongings again, took off his vest, and made his way across the counter, his hips only a foot away from your face. Meanwhile, Diluc had already freed his cock once more, keeping one hand on your restricted arms and using the other to prod your entrance with his tip. The excitement was overwhelming, coursing through your veins as you watched Kaeya slowly unbutton his pants as well with a bit of reluctance.

“Please hurry, Kaeya,” you softly begged, hoping to encourage him to quit holding back since it was obvious he was being overly shy, “Please, I want this so bad…”

“I’m sure you do, darling,” he adopted the pet name from Diluc, “But I like seeing you so needy for me when I’m moving slow like this.”

Letting out an impatient growl, Diluc grabbed onto your hips as he sheathed his cock with your cunt all at once, making you mewl and sigh at the feeling of being full again. He began rolling his hips deeply just as he did before he was so rudely interrupted, never failing to maintain his quick rhythm and making your brain short circuit.

With his slender fingers, Kaeya held your chin in his hand, lifting your face up to look at his and grinning once he saw how your mind was lost as you burned with pleasure. He stared at your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, comparing it to the usual calm and composed demeanor you always seemed to have. He smirked, rubbing a small circle into your chin with his thumb. “So this pretty, helpless face is what Diluc gets to see every single day? I’m very jealous, brother.”

That comment only made Diluc pound into you harder, his weight shifting into his arm to pin you down further. “Cry about it,” he mocked.

Ignoring the comment, Kaeya only pressed his lips together in a pout to tease you, slowly taking out his cock which made your mind boggle at the sheer size of it. He was just as deliciously large as Diluc was, and as he began to stroke it in front of your face, secretly admiring the sight of you being fucked senseless by his brother, you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting in the presence of such dominating forces hovering over you. Without second thought, you left your mouth agape, letting your tongue stick out in a wordless way of telling him you wanted to take him, to satiate your hungry desires that you hid for quite some time now.

“Eager, are we?” Kaeya didn’t seem to ever shut up his teasing, “I was just going to stand here and enjoy the show, but if you really want it that badly…”

One hand on your chin turned into one thumb in your mouth, which you received gratefully nonetheless. He let you suckle sweetly on his finger, cooing at how pathetic you looked drooling all over it when he hadn’t done anything yet. All the while Diluc let go of your folded arms and instead used both hands to firmly grip your ass and pound into you deeper, the sound of slapping skin filling up the room along with his shaky breaths now and then.

A whimper escaped your throat as you looked up at Kaeya’s face, He didn’t need to hear you say the words to know that you were quietly begging for a taste of him by looking at him so innocently, and as such, your wish was his command. He took a step forward to nestle the head of his cock into your mouth, his thumb still on your tongue to make you open up wider and let you salivate over the taste of his skin until he slowly began pushing himself deeper, watching your gag reflex just to find out you were taking him in quite nicely. His heart was aching with jealousy that Diluc was so lucky to have you all to himself, but nonetheless, once he fully bottomed out inside of your throat that he had to remove his finger to fit properly, he saw this as an opportunity to enjoy himself and sighed in pleasurable relief.

Kaeya’s hands found their place on both sides of your head as he slowly fucked your throat, wanting to relish in the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him, holding back coughs and tears. It was a painfully delightful contrast to the way Diluc was relentlessly abusing your aching hole from the other side of the counter, letting out his pent up frustrations of the night in the form of deep thrusts and shameless pants. Kaeya couldn’t help but leave quiet moans here and there as well while he slowly pushed himself in and out of your mouth, filling your throat up with his entire length just to pull back with a sigh then do it again.

Eventually, Kaeya became more comfortable with picking up the pace, watching as Diluc’s slammed his hips into yours and yearning for a similar feeling. His hands traveled through your scalp, tangling through your hair messily as he leaned in to fuck into your mouth with more intent. You hummed sweetly as Kaeya finally stopped holding back, giving into the pleasure and matching Diluc’s rough pace. The feeling of the two of them ignoring their feud and instead taking out their frustrations on you made your insides twist and knot together knowing that after so long, your fantasies have come to light – or rather, they came to this dimly lit tavern in the middle of the night.

Diluc was the first to release himself in you, filling your drenched cunt with his seed and controlling his staggering breaths as he fucked you slowly to calm down from his high. It made you needy to hear his low groans in their fullest volume, but you knew that that had to be saved for different circumstances. His fingers that dug into your skin so intensely gently lifted off of you has he wiped the slight sweat off his forehead and simultaneously looked up to watch Kaeya fucking your throat. If he hadn’t been so exhausted from work tonight, he would’ve secretly loved to invite Kaeya for another round, knowing how tightly your cunt wrapped around him the second Kaeya started touching you.

Shortly after, Kaeya finally reached his own release too, letting your nose nestle in his trimmed blue hair as he dumped his cum into your throat unceremoniously. His chest slowly rose and fell with each deep breath he took, trying to control himself as he felt you attempt to swallow his seed while he was still inside you. The feeling drove him crazy and craving for more, but as he averted his gaze from you to look at Diluc on the other side, a wave of regret and jealousy washed over him knowing that this was probably going to leave him off on bad terms with his brother – again.

But much to his dismay, as he slowly pulled out of you, Diluc only laughed. He laughed wholeheartedly as he gently caressed your waist, soothing you while you gasped for air. Kaeya stood there confused on the sudden lightheartedness in the air, tucking himself back into his pants and getting ready to leave as soon as possible, slightly ashamed for indulging in such an impulsive moment of vulnerability for you and Diluc.

“Not so fast,” Diluc spoke the first words after the long period of silence once Kaeya started to pick up his belongings, “You’re forgetting your keys.”

With the help of Diluc, you slowly lifted yourself up to lay on your back, keeping your legs spread and incoherently mewling for more. Diluc only grinned at this, shushing you with a gentle look and caressing your thigh as he briefly saw his cum pooling on the counter. Kaeya nervously glanced at you before entering the bar and walking towards his keys next to Diluc’s foot, grabbing them, then standing back up with an averted gaze. The poor boy was so nervous, but you had to admit he tasted so good.

Diluc placed a reaffirming hand on Kaeya’s shoulder, making Kaeya lift his head and look into his eyes. The two shared a moment of eye contact, communicating a shared sense of apology to each other. Maybe it was bad at first, but regardless of how much they seemed to be at each others throats, they always seemed to make amends in the end.

“Okay, get out,” Diluc bluntly said, which followed with hurried footsteps towards the door and a quick, “Alright, alright, I’m leaving!” from Kaeya. The exchange made you laugh, but once Kaeya was finally gone and Diluc had locked the door behind him, you were beginning to get antsy.

“So,” Diluc trailed his eyes up and down your trembling body still splayed out on the counter, “would you, by chance, ever be interested in doing that again? Just the three of us?”

“I want to so badly,” you breathlessly admitted, replaying the past half hour in your head and letting the memory brand into your mind. “Please, Master?”

He thought about it for a moment then grinned.

“I’ll think about it. As long as you know you belong to me in the end, maybe another round with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc smut #kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #requested

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softjakehoon · 3 years ago

Text

Can We Pretend?

Pairing: Idol Jay/Reader

Warnings: Smut. For 18+ only, minors dni.

Includes: Corruption kink, friends with benefits, protected sex, squirting, mild choking, slight biting, rough sex.

Authors note: I might edit this later. I apologize for any errors, I wrote this at 5 am instead of sleeping. Lmao.

------

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, in case you wanted to back down.

You were watching a drama just a couple of minutes ago when he kissed you by surprise. You remember teasing him and questioning his innocence because of a scene in the drama where the main leads were hugging before having sex for the first time.

Your brain stopped functioning for a while to remember how it all came to this.

"Pft. Who the fuck hugs before having sex?" You almost choked on your drink out of laughter.

"Why? Isn't that a normal thing for couples?" Jay asked you with innocence plastered on his face.

"Are you being serious? You.. don't tell me you're still a virgin?" You were so shocked that you had to pause the drama you're both watching.

"What's wrong with being a virgin? Also, you already know I haven't dated anyone in my life, why are you so shocked?" His lips pouting cutely as he argued.

"But that was 3 years ago, Jay. You're literally 21 now, you need to get laid." You teased him out of habit. A sting of pain suddenly grazing your heart at the thought of your best friend on someone else's bed.

"As if I have the time for that. Besides, I can't just hook up with anyone. I have a reputation to protect as an idol." He's right, you nodded in response. A sudden thought crossing your mind.

"Wait a minute, how do you release tension then? Do you just get off by yourself or?" Your face inspecting his eyes closely for some hint. "Don't tell me you don't jack off either?" You were beyond shocked by his blank expression, showing no sign of guilt at all.

"Holy shit, how do you even do that? You poor thing." You taunted him.

"Enough, y/n. I'm fine, I have a lot of ways to release stress. Unless, you want to offer yourself to help." Jay knew he wasn't thinking straight when he said this but he maintained his cool and unbothered expression to see how you would react.

"You want us to be fuck buddies, is that it? Fine, I'll help you." You weren't sure why you agreed without giving it a second thought. But you know deep inside you've been in love with Jay for 6 years already. For all those years, you tried so hard not to be overly affectionate and clingy to the boy you liked the most--in fear of him drifting away from you. You wanted to be someone constant in his life, someone he can go to whenever he needs someone to lean on. You wanted to be his soulmate.

You've done a great job so far, but you're not sure anymore. How the hell are you going to manage pretending from now on? When you're overly sentimental and you tend to give meaning to every single thing he does.

"What? How can you agree so fast?" He jokingly covered his mouth, pretending to be shocked.

"What? Do you want me to take it back? It's not like this is my first time having sex anyway." You tried to act cool as much as possible, pretending that this setup isn't that much of a big deal at all.

"Right. I'm not. But you're gonna be my first." You're almost sure he sounded hurt when he said that while looking deeply in your eyes.

You couldn't resist it anymore. You wanted to be the one to erase his innocence but you were surprised when he kissed you first.

You couldn't honestly tell if this is his first kiss or not because he's definitely good at it.

You pulled away out of shock. You didn't expect him to be this good since you thought he's just gonna go for a quick peck. He looked confused at your reaction.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, in case you wanted to back down.

"No. No, I was just shocked. I thought you were just gonna go with a quick peck, that's all." For some reason you can't look directly in his eyes. You're sure of it. If you do, you're gonna fall for him again, like you always do.

"Well, we're not gonna go further with just a peck, right? Stop acting so shy, I thought you're gonna help me." He lifted your chin using his thumb, your eyes meeting in parallel.

"You sure about this, Jay? I mean, I may get clingy after all of this. You know how sensitive I get. I tend to feel a lot of emotions." You warned him, followed by a fake laugh to ease the tension. You wanted to give him an idea of what could happen at least.

"Then, don't. We're just using each other for sex, keep that in mind." You're aware he didn't mean to hurt you by this. He was just stating the obvious--drawing the line between the two of you for safety precaution. But this hurts, and you wanted him to take the pain all away, even just for a while.

You kissed him roughly in frustration. He picked up your pace quickly, he really is a fast learner, you thought. And his lips, they're small and cute but they felt so damn good on yours. You grabbed his face, feeling every inch of his jawline, circling your fingertips on the mark on his neck. You looked deep into his eyes before gently sucking on it. He moaned at the contact, grabbing a fistful of your hair gently and pulling you back to a kiss.

"Don't leave marks, y/n. I have a photoshoot tomorrow." He said, firmly.

"Too bad. Wanted to fucking mark you as proof of getting your virginity taken." You chuckled.

"Let me mark you instead, then. Proof that I let you take it." He whispered into your ear, biting into it gently, and kissing your neck while sucking on your skin up to your cleavage.

You moaned from the sensation. You're already melting from his touch, you couldn't help but to rub your thighs together, wanting some kind of pleasure on your core as soon as possible.

"Jay, I want your cock in me so bad." You whined, desperate to feel him inside of you. You palmed his cock inside his shorts, pulling it out. This is your first time seeing your best friend's dick and it was prettier than you imagined it would be. And you always thought he would be huge, but this doesn't even compare to the one in your dreams. The length, the girth, the tip of his cock, all red from arousal, leaking with precum already. Your mouth is watering from the sight.

You couldn't help it. You dropped on your knees, eyes levelled to his crotch. You pumped his dick with your small hands, earning a gasp from him. You circled your tongue in his tip, gathering all the precum in it before fully deep throating him. He let out a growl this time, surprised by your sudden action. "Fuck, y/n. That's it, your mouth feels so good." You hummed in his dick, sending vibrations to his senses. You kept bobbing your head up and down, making sure to go as deep as you can, his tip hitting your throat making you slightly gag. You pulled it out for a moment to spit on it, and put it back inside your mouth, sucking him sloppily.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm close, keep going." Your jaw is starting to hurt a little, but you wanted to taste him so bad. You continued sucking him off while cupping his balls, massaging them gently.

"Fuck, I'm cumming." He tried to get you off of him but you wrapped your arms around his thighs, pulling him closer. His cock, burying in your throat even deeper as he cummed. You looked up to him, eyes closed and mouth open from the pleasure. His head tilted back, and his hair slightly wet from sweat. The view of him from below caused a pool of wetness in your core. You milked him dry and swallowed his load without hesitation.

"Shit, y/n. That's just.. insane. Come here, I wanna taste you too." He helped you get up, both of you smiling from ecstasy.

You sat up on the couch, your thighs closed involuntarily trying to hide your arousal. "Can I?" He looked into your eyes, asking for permission if he could eat you out like a gentleman that he is.

"Y-yes." You shyly answered. This is the first time someone is getting down on you after all. Your ex never liked foreplay and always went on ahead with penetration every single time that it hurts most of the time. Nervous of what's to come, you covered your face with your hands, not wanting him to see your state.

"Let me see your pretty face, y/n. I wanna see how good I'm making you feel." He grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on his head, giving you something to hold on to while he flicks his tongue in your clit. He looked at you, your head tilted on the side, your mouth open releasing soft moans. He took the chance to put two fingers in your mouth, making you suck on them only to put them inside your cunt. He continued thrusting his fingers in and out while licking and sucking your bud, driving you insane from the pleasure, your arousal dripping down his chin generously.

You grabbed his hair firmly as you focused on reaching your climax, clenching on his fingers. "Jay, I.. I'm gonna cum." You're almost out of breath at this point.

He curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot several times that had you squirting around his digits. He eased you from your high, fucking your hole with his tongue and sucking on your juices. He looked up to you with lust all written in his face. His cheeks and chin, all wet and covered with your scent.

"I always knew you'd taste good. Though I didn't know you're a squirter." He chuckled and sat on the couch.

"Shut up. It's because it felt too good." You got up and climbed on his lap. He grabbed your ass to spread them and began kissing you again. The taste of his cum and yours both mixing in your mouth as you kiss him back. You began grinding at his erection, coating his length with your juices as he guided you by your waist.

You're getting impatient at this point, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you. You felt Jay searching for something in the corner of the couch, eventually bringing out a condom.

"Why do you have that there?" You asked him, curious if he knew this would happen.

"The boys left it here just in case. Didn't know I'd be the one to use it though." He tore the packaging and started rolling it down to the base of his cock.

"You're such a good boy, aren't you?" You smiled at him.

"I don't think so." He whispered in your ear and bit your jaw, leaving a slight mark. You moaned a little bit louder this time. Surprised that it didn't hurt at all. "Aren't you such a pain slut? You're getting turned on by that? Huh?" His voice is so deep and velvety, making you clench your walls on nothing.

You started positioning yourself in his cock, slowly sinking down while biting your lip. He gasped from the unfamiliar sensation when he felt his tip enter you. You made sure to bottom all the way down, training your cunt to adjust to his size.

"Shit. Move for me, baby. Be a good girl and ride my cock." He's holding you by your waist, pinning you down roughly.

"Fuck, Jay. Your cock is so deep in me." You continued bouncing up and down, grinding back and forth on his cock from time to time whenever your legs would start to get tired.

Jay sensed that you’re starting to slow down so he started thrusting deep and sloppily into your core. You tried to meet his every thrust, biting your lips to keep yourself from screaming.

“Jay, I’m close.” He wrapped his right hand on your neck gently, while his left hand stayed at your waist. You're left at his mercy at this point. He’s in charge of the moment, giving you a smack on your ass as he growls from the intense pleasure.

“Cum for me, y/n.” With a couple of thrusts, you reached your orgasm, your walls convulsing around Jay’s cock that sent him to the edge as well.

He stayed inside you for a moment as both of you tried to catch your breath and then he pulled out after, discarding the condom in the trash bin.

He helped you get up and prepared a warm bath for you to enjoy. He knows that both of you just entered a complicated situation but he doesn’t regret it. As long as he’s with you, nothing else matters.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen dirty imagines #enhypen jay #enhypen jay x reader

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janecrockeyre · 4 years ago

Text

scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei

this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.

a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues

Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it.

The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate.

Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!

Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it.

In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain.

On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!!

Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh?

But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements.

Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."

Part One: The Tragic Hero

What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw.

There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”.

Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young.

Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise.

Shen Jiu

Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious.

Luo Binghe

Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5.

As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself.

Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back.

Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid.

Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side.

In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand.

If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.

This brings us to:

Part Two: Peripeteia

This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles.

Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:

Shen Qingqiu

In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section.

Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)

One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison.

“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”

This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):

“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”

After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish.

Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty.

This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative.

(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)

It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.

Bingmei

Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt.

He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei.

The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage.

Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)

(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)

Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture.

Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following

KING LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

[...]

KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

Dies

Versus this scene in SVSSS:

Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”

[...]

Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.

He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.

“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”

PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.

This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.

ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!

#svsss #scum villain #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #greek tragedy #hello followers this account has been silent for a long time but today i bring you whatever this is #long post #i am gonna cross post more art here from my twitter i think #you guys really like my shitposts on here

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years ago

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Sometimes You Have No Option

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: scar mentions, mostly just vague nothing too graphic at all, very quick mention of the ‘heat death of the universe‘, it’s one throwaway line but just to be safe!

Summary: Virgil wonders what Roman gets up to on his adventures that leaves him battered and bruised. What he finds isn’t what he expected....

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There was always this unpleasant feeling that followed Virgil whenever Roman came back from traversing the mindscape on an ‘adventure’; sometimes he’d come back bruised and bashed, other times he’d sport a limp, but nearly every time, Roman would come home with new scars.

Virgil couldn’t understand the appeal of it, though far be it for him to say anything about it. Sure, maybe it did hurt a little seeing someone he cared about come back each time more banged up than before.

But that's none of his business, right?

Virgil wondered just what Roman got up to each time he went out. He’d never seen the things Roman could conjure outside of the main mindscape; some called it the ‘imagination’ but they were already within the imagination technically. No, what Roman would conjure was more like a simulation within the mindscape, as far as Virgil understood it. Like adding an extension onto a home…. Only to tear it down once you were done with it in the end.

Perhaps calling them ‘daydreams’ was a more accurate comparison.

There were many times Virgil would let his own imagination run wild with the kind of journeys Roman must have gone on. Forests and kingdoms, perhaps a seafaring adventure if Remus agreed to not set the kraken on him. Or maybe he branched out even more. Something like the spaceports of Treasure Planet, or something more akin to a spiritual journey you’d find in a Ghibli movie. Who knew what Roman was up to most days, honestly.

It was a lazy Saturday in the mindscape when Virgil finally decided to ask Roman about it.

He hadn’t necessarily planned to do so, but Logan and Patton were both busy elsewhere, and all Virgil had to do was watch TV and contemplate the inevitable heat death of the universe when Roman had returned. Mismatched eyes latched onto the creative side as the prince made his way to the kitchen. He winced as he watched Roman root around for frozen peas and press the bag to his left cheek.

The injury was just out of Virgil’s sight, but as Roman turned and made eye contact, he could see the beginnings of a bruise forming. Despite the way the sight made Virgil’s lips pinch into a frown, Roman met him with a smile that made his stomach do flips as he made his way over to the sofa,

“What’s that look for, Woe Troham?”

Virgil snorted, “Wow, we’re getting obscure with the nicknames now? You’re really earning that extra credit in Emo Studies, Princey.”

Roman rolled his eyes fondly and sat down next to Virgil, careful of the anxious side’s bunched up legs, “You do realise we ALL went through Thomas’ emo phase, right?”.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Whatever...”, he was about to leave the conversation there when he remembered the matter at hand, “Hey, uh, Roman?”

“That’s what they call me, yes.”, the creative side smirked playfully, “Typically preceded by ‘Prince’ but I’ll cut you some slack this once.”. Virgil wanted to slap that smirk away. Or maybe smooch it. The jury was still out on that one.

He sighed in mock annoyance, “Can we cut out the nonsense for once, Romano?”

He bit his lip to stifle a chuckle at the insulted huff Roman let out.

“Okay, seriously, I was gonna ask what happened,”, Virgil continued when Roman fixed him with a perplexed frown, “Y’know, to cause that.” .

He freed one hand from his hoodie paws to gesture to the bruise under the frozen peas in Roman’s hand. Said creative side shrugged, “It’s nothing to worry about, Virge. I’ve had far worse before.”.

Oh great, because that’s what Virgil was absolutely dying to hear.

The words left his mouth before the anxious side could stop them, “.. Can I see?”

Okay, that had to have crossed a line, surely. Those scars were probably super traumatic or heavy with meaning, or perhaps they were-

“Okay.”, Roman shrugged. He was already hauling his shirt off by the time Virgil had registered how casual Roman was about this whole thing. He was about to voice his confusion when Roman’s shirt fluttered to the floor; leaving Virgil with a moment of gay crisis, but even more so a feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach.

Roman’s entire torso was covered in scars. Some were fresh, likely only days old, while others were already paling with time. The anxious side had no idea where his hands obtained the audacity to trail themselves along Roman’s skin without permission, but the creative side seemed content to let him continue.

Surprisingly confident fingertips traced valleys and trenches of healed and healing skin, only ever stopping on each route if Roman protested. Virgil had no idea why Roman let him even do something that felt this intimate in the first place, but the question that bubbled out of his throat instead was, “What…. Happened to you?”

He expected Roman to turn away, to dramatically cover himself once more, perhaps muttering a barely audible “some things are left unsaid” or “it’s…. Personal”, and then he’d retire to his room while Virgil did the same and let his mind swim in it’s usual cloud of anxious self depreciation.

What Virgil did not expect was for Roman to immediately start pointing them out and listing every single cause like it was his grocery list.

“Well!”, Roman began, pointing to a scar on his left hip, “This is one I got from accidentally laying down on a light bulb.”

The prince pointed to more scars as he went, all too oblivious of Virgil’s stunned silence, “This one here is from running through corn stalks with my shirt off, and that one was a mosquito bite I scratched, which yes I know you shouldn’t do that, but you know how dreadfully those itch.This one here is from the time I tried to fight a goose- Oh! And this one I procured from falling out of a window during an impromptu tickle fight with Remus-”

“Why does anyone try to fight a goose?!”, Virgil blurted out. Of all the rapidfire information his brain just tried to absorb, he wasn’t sure why that was what his brain latched onto, but he couldn’t exactly take back the question now.

The anxious side watched Roman’s expression take on a distant, stoic edge, but having known him so well by now Virgil knew the prince’s fake dramatic long distance stare a mile away. “Sometimes,”, Roman began, and Virgil did his best not to give a fond huff of annoyed laughter at the creative side’s faux drama tone, “The goose leaves you no option-”

Virgil couldn’t stifle the peal of laughter that slipped through his teeth and betrayed his irritated facade. The whole conversation had been an emotional rollercoaster but Virgil was mostly just happy that even if Roman was constantly getting into scrapes, at least it was nothing overly serious. By the time Virgil had stopped laughing, he realised Roman had also fallen victim to the case of the giggles.

“You’re ridiculous, goddamit, Roman!”, Virgil snarked weakly, the gentle smile he wore betraying any attempt at true irritation. Roman simply continued to beam at Virgil, brilliant and bright, a beacon of pure adoration.

“That’s a rather funny way to pronounce ‘handsome and dashing’, but I’ll take it!”

It’s unfair that Roman got to be so well put together while Virgil was just standing there, hands still resting on Roman’s bare chest, blushing up an absolute storm. Something about the way Roman smiled at him - so gentle and adoring - made Virgil want to do something crazy.

Like kissing him.

Yeah.

He should kiss him.

No, wait, he absolutely should NOT do that.

In fact, Virgil caught himself just as he was leaning towards Roman, intending to turn away. However, Roman’s arms snaked their way smoothly around his waist, keeping him close but still remaining loose enough that Virgil could break away if he wanted.

“.... Virgil, can I ask you something?”

Roman’s voice was hesitant, a little less sure of himself than his expression implied. To save himself from embarrassment by not subjecting Roman to any barely passable attempts at a verbal affirmation, Virgil nodded bashfully.

Roman’s gaze landed on Virgil’s lips then settled back into half lidded eye contact, a small quirk of laughter dancing across the prince’s features.

“Am I the only one who’s been subtly flirting this entire time? Because if so, I am going to be utterly scandalized.”

Even Virgil was surprised by the relieved laughter he let out; it was the ugly kind that gave away just how smitten he was with Roman. He tapped his fingers against Roman’s chest, humming playfully.

“Hmmm, looks like you’ll just have to be scandalized, pretty boy.”, he teased.

Roman’s shocked expression was too cute, how could Virgil resist? The anxious side sighed out a low chuckle, rolled his eyes, and lent forward to reward him with a much earned kiss.

-----------

We love us a couple of pining dorks

Based on this post and so I tag @count-woe-laf as promised!

#my fics #prinxiety #roman #virgil #fanfic #fanfics #prinxiety fanfiction #this is basically a shitpost piece #but I'm working on other stuff and it's been so long #I wanted to give you all smth soft and fluffy to read

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damn-stevens · 3 years ago

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Dan Stevens continues to live his best life outside the world of good boy characters in historical dramas.

The idiosyncratic actor/fashion plate has been seemingly quiet of late while working on some of his characteristically unique projects. I'm Your Man is the current big news in Dan fan circles, and rightfully so, but something that's nearly slipped under the radar is that it's highly likely that he's playing the big bad in Marvel's The Eternals.

This is the leader of the Deviants, Kro. He's got a thing going on with Thena, Angelina Jolie's character. It's a relationship which is fraught with juicy drama.

In the trailers we only see Kro in a few shots as the shapeshifting Deviant who manhandles Jolie a bit and whispers, "You can't protect...*huge pause*...any of them." The line is a bit hard to hear and I can't determine if it's Dan's voice or not, but Dan as close to outright said that he's playing him, without just saying, "I'm playing Kro."

Now since this is a cgi character, ntm a shapeshifter, it's impossible to say whether Dan just voiced him or did any mo-cap or live acting in this. I'm hoping for all three. One of the greatest joys about Dan Stevens is listening to his voice (for instance, he recently did a hilarious animated turn as both Prince Philip and Prince Charles in HBO Max's The Prince), but that still comes in a distant second to watching him on screen. And Kro has apparently posed as the Devil in front of humans during part of his history, so...Kro-phisto confirmed?

What's exciting about this for me as a Dan fan is that if the movie and Kro are a hit with audiences, we could see Dan continue to emerge as a great character/mo-cap actor, like the iconic Andy Serkis. Stevens is intensely physical and emotive, and he did a fantastic job as the prince/Beast in the Beauty and the Beast live action remake. That movie is not remembered all that fondly though, and especially not for its use of cgi, even though Dan's performance easily stole the film. He deserves a quality team like the one that the MCU provides to technologically back up his acting.

So here's me crossing my fingers for some big success to Dan Stevens in the MCU! 🤞

Enjoy this obligatory Dan photo

#dan stevens #the eternals #kro #warlord kro #beauty and the beast #mcu #legion fx

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hoodieofholland · 3 years ago

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If this is too much to ask I understand, but I was wondering if you could write something with the reader telling tom the reason why she has trust issues and didn't want a relationship with him at first, and that's because all those times men in your life hurt you? 🌷

This is somewhat personal, cause ive been through a bad relationship. I still have worries that are related to things i experienced in it, things that have me thinking about postponing looking for smth serious bc i dont want it to be drama all the time. Anyways, there's love out there and you don't have to hold on smth bad, if anyone is passing through this, just let go and put yourself first, always.

Warnings: mentions of heartbreak, mentions of abusive relationship.

You play with the hem of you shirt as the two of you sit beside one another on the small sofa of your living room. Tom was worried -- his entire face showed that off. He cared about you and about your feelings in a way that got him thinking if he had taken a much more larger step than he was supposed to.

"Is it something that I did?", he asks softly, as if his words could hurt your in some sort of way. You looked up at him, blinking a few tears away as you tried to regain some strength to talk about it.

"No, it's just- I love our relationship, Tom. I truly do, but...", you try to speak.

"But you don't wanna be with me?", he can't help but ask, and then he closes his eyes briefly, "I'm sorry, I'll let you speak. Go ahead"

You sigh and smile thankfully. "I want to. Don't get me wrong... I can't stop imagining what it'd be like to be your girlfriend. We spend such a great time together and I love everything about our relationship, from everything that is physical to our conversations", it's good to finally be honest with him.

You and Tom were in a really... delicate situation. Since the first time you hook up, you made it very clear that you wanted no strings attached. You liked him since the first time your were introduced to one another, through common friends, but you still didn't want anything serious with anyone.

It wasn't Tom. It was your past.

Everything was proving to be much more difficult through months being together, because you couldn't help but fall for the brown haired boy. He was kind, sweet, always kissed you passionately and treated you like you were a really important person for him. And there were not many people who did that to you.

You were grateful for it and you thought that maybe could deal with that feeling, hiding it, in sake of your friendship with him and the time you spent together. But right after the last time you slept together, when you were laying your head on his bare chest, his slender fingers tracing circles on your back, he whispered something that made both of your chest ache in realisation.

"I'm in love with you".

You felt a coward, but you still did what you thought was the best -- you gathered your things together, just like your deepest feelings, and made your way out of his bedroom.

It's been a week since then and Tom decided to give you the space you needed, as your replies to his messages made it clear enough. When you finally felt the courage to tell him what was going on, you called him up to your place, and that's how you ended up here.

"So what's wrong, love?", Tom asks, his voice still low as he tries to understand what's going inside your head. "Look, I know I agreed with this whole no strings thing, but- I changed my mind. I mean, I thought you did too, that's why I brought it up. I'm sorry if I disrespected your space, but I had to tell you how I felt. I couldn't betray both of us this way anymore. This is much more than just a casual hook up for me now, y/n".

You bite your lips. Yes, that's exactly what you did, you lied to him and tried to lie to yourself. All because you were too afraid to say the exact same words that he is saying now.

You run your hands over your cheeks before crossing your legs on the sofa and taking a large breathe. "What is wrong, in fact, is that... I- I'm afraid. I'm afraid this might go wrong, I'm afraid that we ruin what we have".

"By taking our relationship more seriously? How come?", Tom frowns, "I'm sorry, but I'm not understanding your point-".

"I'm afraid that we might end up like my old relationships!", you finally let out, in one loud shout, facing the ground as you close your hands in tight fists. The emotions you so hardly buried inside of your chest comes out and you feel it. You remember how miserable you felt when you were dating your last boyfriend, how he made sure to put you in the lowest mindset so he could make himself more of a man, how he always wanted to get the spotlight when he was with you. He needed to be the smartest. He needed to put you down, so he could feel like a winner.

Tom goes silence, he watches as you try to come up with a better explanation, reading through your face as you lick your lips and finally look at his face again.

"It was awful. I felt awful. And what killed me for a long time was that I couldn't trust anyone. I couldn't trust anyone could truly want what was good for me. I felt so hurt. And people always acted like I was doing drama, like I was overreacting, but that's not how I felt. I- I don't wanna go through that again, Tom, and I'm just so afraid"

Tom's frown deepens on his forehead and he gets closer to you on the sofa, hesitantly asking to bring you to his arms in a soft hug. You accept it, closing yoir eyes as you let yourself get lost in his scent.

"I'm sorry about that, darling", he whispers, kissing the top of your head. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through this, you don't deserve it at all. You deserve to be loved, and whoever on this earth has the lucky to call you their and treat you like this... whoever did it doesn't deserve a shit. You're so- so kind and loving. And loveable", he pulls you away for a bit to look at your face, cupping your cheeks with his hand, thumb caressing your skin. "I love you, y/n. I love every piece of you, and believe me when I say I tried really hard to be loyal to our agreement and not to fall for you, but it was just... unnatural", he chuckles, rubbing away a single tear that drop from your eyes.

"I understand your worries and I'm gonna respect whatever choice you make, but... I need to say that I'm not gonna treat you like this. I'm gonna love you, if you're willing to try it. To try and be my- my girlfriend. I can give you the love you deserve, sweetheart".

You sniff, blinking away the wetness on your eyes. Tom kissed the tip of your nose, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your cheeks.

"It's up to you, y'know. I don't want to push you. But I need you to know it all", he sighs and rests his forehead against yours.

You nod slowly and smile. He was kind, he carried about you. He was your Tom this whole time, not just a hook up, not just your secret lover. He was one of your best friends. He would never put both of you in a competition, when he was always trying to put you in the spotlight, to make you laugh, to make you shine. He wasn't a dick, like your old boyfriends. Love wasn't over just because of bad experiences. Tom has showed you that, that you could fall for another man again.

You smile widens when you give him a slight peck on the lips, making him open those beautiful brown eyes.

"I want it. I want to be your girlfriend".

He smiled. And when you thought you've seen the greatest joy in Tom's face already, you were watching him glow now, taking you into a passionate kiss as both of you giggled and held into one another to share a love none of you expected in the first place.

#hoodie 600's sleepover #tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #tom x reader #boyfriend!tom

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years ago

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Hello there!! Do you have a list of long fics with a jealous/possessive/obsessive sherlock? Thank you mwahhh

Hey Nonny!!

I DO!! I actually started a new list for Possessive Sherlock awhile back waiting for someone to ask for it after I posted my other two lists, LOL.

I put my fics in word-count order, so just scroll down until you see a word count you like and go from there LOL :D

Hope you enjoy!

POSSESSIVE / OBSESSIVE SHERLOCK Pt 3